Shadow groaned. “Not you too. Don’t tell me you actually enjoy this? It’s ridiculous. They make up trivial drama between the spirits for our enjoyment. The spirits are to be revered, worshipped, not put up like this as silly little props.”
Wayfinder nudged her. “It’s just some fun, Shadow. Something you could learn a little about.”
Shadow worked hard, which I respected. But right now, I agreed with Wayfinder. I wanted to enjoy myself and not think about anything else, especially not the mission to find the Huntsman or how I needed to somehow steal that mirror before we left.
At least this festival was going to give me the perfect opportunity. Everyone would be here, drinking and having fun while I’d be sneaking into Penn’s tent and finding that damn mirror.
But that would come later. For now, I could enjoy the puppets.
“Earth would never speak like that,” Shadow was saying.
“It’s a puppet!” Wayfinder shoved a hand through his dark, curly hair. “It’s not supposed to be realistic. No one here actually thinks Earth speaks like that or...” He tilted his head as the puppet let out a loud burp. “Belches like that.”
“This is offensive. I am actually offended by this.” Shadow just shook her head and crossed her arms.
“You know,” I started, “in Elwen, we create an altar for Earth, made of plants and flowers and wood.”
“That sounds beautiful.” Shadow shot a look at Wayfinder. “And appropriate.”
Someone passed by with a tray of turkey legs, and Wayfinder grabbed one and flipped the man a coin. He started gnawing on it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is pure art.”
Frost lunged at Water, and Shadow muttered “blasphemy” under her breath.
As horrid as the show was, I couldn’t tear my eyes from it. “To be fair to Wayfinder, they did a good job with the design of the puppets.”
The Seven Spirits hadn’t been seen or heard from since all those living in the Old World had perished, thousands of years ago. But we still worshipped them, celebrated them and the magic they bestowed upon us. Historians and scholars weren’t sure what happened to the people of the Old World, why they’d vanished from this land without leaving a trace. But many had theories: that they’d become greedy and selfish with their magic, wanting more, taking more, so that the Seven Spirits waged a war on them and destroyed everyone. That war had broken out among them, and the Seven Spirits intervened, accidentally causing mass death. From all the historical evidence we’d found, it was clear the spirits appeared regularly to the people of the Old World. They talked to them, interacted with them, appeared at their festivals. It was all so fascinating to think about, and thedrawings and depictions we’d found gave us a good idea of what the spirits looked like.
The puppets were now in an all-out brawl. “Oh, admit it.” I elbowed Shadow. “This is kind of fun.”
Shadow huffed.
I studied the Earth puppet, the way her hair looked like thick, ropey vines, her body stiff and thick like a tree trunk. Earth was the least-depicted of all the spirits, and the only drawings or etchings we had of her were torn, faded, or destroyed by time and other things. We had to guess more when it came to her appearance.
I gestured to her puppet, now dancing for the other spirits to distract them from their fight. “You know, I picture Earth so differently than that.”
“How so?”
I whirled at the sound of that low voice that sent shivers down my spine. Penn stood there, staring at me and waiting for an answer.
Wayfinder choked on his turkey leg, and Shadow pounded him on the back. “Penn?” he finally asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to get some supplies,” Penn said gruffly.
“Of course.” Wayfinder tore off a chunk of the leg with his teeth. “Because why wouldn’t you come to a festival to work instead of, oh, I don’t know, actually enjoy yourself?”
Shadow smirked.
Penn rolled his eyes. “Some of us don’t have that luxury.” He gestured to the puppet show. “So how do you imagine Earth, then?” he asked again.
I closed my eyes and felt the breeze that ruffled my hair, faint and gentle on my skin. “I imagine her in everything: not as a human form, but I imagine her face in the trees that give us shelter, her fingers in the flowers that show us beauty, her voicein the thorns that remind us of her power. She’s everywhere, in every part of our world. And festivals like this remind me of how much she gives us, and how much she can take away if we’re not careful.”
My stepmother’s face popped into my mind, and my eyes flew open at the intrusive image, finding Penn looking at me, his green eyes so intense I thought I’d somehow offended him with my answer.
“That was . . .” Shadow started.
“Wow,” Wayfinder said. “Definitely more poetic than this.” He gestured to the puppet show, which was coming to an end.
The band struck up another lively song, and Wayfinder stuck out his hand. “What do you say, Shadow? Mend our differences on the dance floor?”
